Gu Yu and Qin Shan walked side by side.
"Brother Three, weren't you busy writing? How come you're out here?"
He suddenly turned to Qin Shan with curiosity.
Logically, at this time, Brother Three should have been deeply engrossed in his writing, with no time to take a walk.
"Yeah, I was writing earlier, but I've run into some trouble, so I came out to clear my mind and see if I could find a solution."
Qin Shan nodded, his face showing a trace of worry.
He still hadn't made a decision on whether to rewrite the whole thing or to continue stubbornly and make corrections along the way.
He didn't want to take risks.
But he also didn't like the idea of locking himself into a ceiling.
"Oh? Trouble in writing could stump our great novelist?"
Gu Yu looked astonished and teased Qin Shan.
Qin Shan: "What great novelist? I am still just an obscure author."
"Speaking of which, Laosi, may I ask you a question?"
Qin Shan gave a resigned smile, then stopped walking and asked Gu Yu.
